


Another Round

by Vargras



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles 2 (Video Game)
Genre: FRIENDSHIP FIC TIMEEE, Gen, it feels like I'm literally the only one who likes to write about these three being pals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-21 20:52:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18147284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vargras/pseuds/Vargras
Summary: Seeking advice, Rex asks Mòrag to spar with him.





	Another Round

“Again.”

From his vantage point upon the ground, it was admittedly difficult to see much else _besides_ the blue sky above him, but at the very least, he could still _hear_ Mòrag. He had already forced himself to sit back up, gingerly rubbing at his own back — about the only thing hurt was his pride, it seemed.

He had asked for this, though. With a bit of downtime in Fonsett, Rex had sought out Mòrag and asked her for instruction in the ways of war, and she had happily obliged. After all, he was merely self-taught, and his own methods of fighting were gradually being outpaced by those that they were up against. His haphazard style of combat was only going to take him so far, and if he wanted to be the Driver that Pyra and Mythra deserved, he _had_ to get better… for them.

“On your feet, Rex. You can take a break later.”

 _Right then_. Snapped out of his thoughts by the command, the salvager steadily got back to his feet, taking a firm grasp of the practice sword given to him. “Got it.”

Even as he did this, the Special Inquisitor eyed her own practice weapon with a hint of curiosity — it felt so very _strange_ to hold one of these in her hands again. It felt far too light, far too _loose_ compared to what she had become accustomed to with Brighid’s own whips. The balance was off, but…  it would fulfill its purpose just fine. Such was the point of a wooden training sword, after all. And when Rex had asked her for help with his technique, well… it wasn’t as if she could refuse. He had become a surprisingly valuable ally, _and_ friend. That, and… there was something rather delightful about instructing someone else like this. It reminded her of home, in a way.

“Ready when you are, Mòrag.”

“Very well. You repeatedly left your flank open on that last round, and your footwork is sloppy. There’s no sense of stability to it at all.” With another training blade in her other hand, she assumed a combat stance, locking eyes with her opponent. “If you can’t cover your own back, and you can’t remain grounded, you’re at the mercy of your own allies. Trust in them _may_ be important, but you need to carry your own weight as well. Understood?”

“Yeah, I gotcha.” The boy shifted his weight somewhat, settling into his usual posture — the sword he was using certainly wasn’t a broadsword like he was used to, but it would have to do. “Whenever you’re good, I’m good.”

She glanced to her side. “Zeke?”

The Prince of Tantal merely peeked up from his book—and his spot—beneath a tree, giving her a quizzical look. “Hm? Oh, right. You two ready?”

They both gave him a quick nod, and Zeke gave one to both in return, holding an arm aloft. “On my mark.”

Rex tightened his grip. Mòrag let out the breath she had been holding.

“Go!”

The Special Inquisitor was upon him in a flash, and he had only managed to stop her own attack through raw instincts, it felt like. She was fast… _too_ damn fast, and he only barely deflected another blow before spinning to try and deliver a counterattack — except she had already backstepped, the blade simply whiffing through the air. He had been forced on the defensive already, but… _no, think. Think to what she’s been trying to teach you. Watch your opponent’s movements and look for an opening._

His focus solely on blocking and parrying her attacks, Rex instead observed the way her body moved, where her feet were planted. The differences in their skill levels were night and day — she had been trained in the art of war from a young age. He had simply scrounged together basic survival skills. But, if he watched enough, if he paid close enough attention…

 _There!_ Sensing an opportunity, he attempted to deliver a swing to her shoulder, and—

She dodged it, and had already sent him flat upon his back again with the sweep of a leg, one of her swords pointed at his throat as she gave him a rather amused look. “A good attempt, Rex. You lasted longer that time, and you seem to be thinking on your toes. _But,_ there is such a thing as ‘overthinking’. Don’t be afraid to trust your gut.”

“Ugh… right.” Sitting upright once more, he hopped back to his feet and took hold of his practice sword yet again. He was making slow, yet steady, progress. He _was_ getting better, that much he could tell, but… it was slower than he would have liked. Time was a luxury they simply did not have anymore, what with the near-constant race with Malos and Jin to the top of the World Tree. “Okay, let’s do this.”

“Again, then? So be it. You’re spirited, I’ll give you that much. Zeke?”

A wary look from Zeke as he went through the motions yet again. Both stood ready, and on his signal, they lunged at one another once more. Mòrag was admittedly surprised when he _ducked_ out of the way of her first stab — Rex’s movements were subtly different this time, more relaxed, more fluid. He had always had remarkably good instincts, and it seemed her latest mention had certainly been a boon.

He still couldn’t keep up with her speed, though, and she knew it. A twist left her woefully exposed, something she _knew_ he’d try to take advantage of, and when he did, it ended with one of her blades at his neck.

Frozen mid-swing, Rex had been forced to concede, lowering his weapon. “ _Dammit._ ”

“Don’t be too harsh on yourself. You _are_ improving.”

“Not as much as I’d like.” Jamming his practice sword into the ground, he gave his shoulders a stretch, rolling them as he hopped a bit. “I _need_ to get better.”

“I’m aware. For Pyra, and Mythra, yes?” Mirroring his movements somewhat, she placed her own weapons upon the ground, one hand upon her wrist as she gave it a good _crack_ to loosen it. “Movements like mine take _years,_ Rex. You’ve been given mere _hours._ Any improvements will be subtle, but they _will_ be there. You have my word.”

“I know, I just… feel like I’m getting nowhere compared to earlier, when we first started this.”

“ _Patience._ Lack of it will get you nowhere.” The sound of crunching gravel to her side had drawn her attention elsewhere, causing her to quirk a brow at what she saw. “Zeke?”

The Bringer of Chaos had marched back upon the field, with all the flourish one would find so very typical of him at this point. “Mòrag, if I may?”

“I’m assuming you have input of your own?”

“Right you are. Rex may be a quick learner, but it might not be best to just treat him as another Ardainian soldier.” Grinning, he tapped a finger to his temple. “You need to play to his strengths!”

“Play to his strengths, hm? I can see the merit in that. Formal education can provide the foundation, but the rest lies elsewhere.” Nodding, she took a few steps back, still in the midst of her own stretching as she gave some room. “Very well, do what you will.”

“Right then. Chum?” Strolling over to the salvager, he removed the sword from the ground and placed it back in the salvager’s hands. “Give me what you’d usually do in a fight.”

Rex gave him a questioning look. “Broadsword?”

“Broadsword, same as what Pyra and Mythra have. It’s what you’re most comfortable with, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Then show me what you’d do.”

“R-Right.” Without giving it much further thought, he had already adjusted his grip, shifting the positioning of his hands as he shuffled his feet across. His knees bent, lowering him somewhat, and as he turned his shoulders, he gave Zeke another look. “Probably something about like this.”

“...Hm. Interesting. Never looked at it much up close like this.” Zeke wandered around him a bit, gently tapping on various parts of his body here and there. “Move in your legs a bit, about as much as your shoulder width. It’ll be easier to keep your balance.”

“Okay.”

“Square your shoulders up. That ought to give you a thinner profile in a fight.”

“Uh huh.”

“Grip seems good. Don’t lock your wrists and elbows, though. You want them loose, but not _too_ loose.”

“Gotcha.”

Mòrag merely blinked a bit as she observed the both of them — sure, he was a bit of an airhead, but it seemed Zeke hadn’t earned his nickname for nothing. He had a surprising wealth of knowledge at his disposal, and seemed _extremely_ well-versed in things such as this, even as he had his head down beside Rex’s, seemingly glancing along his shoulders and checking his posture. Whatever else it was he had been saying, she couldn’t hear, and… much as she didn’t want to admit it, Zeke likely _was_ the better teacher for someone such as Rex. They both favored the same weapon types, and both had rather unorthodox fighting styles.

...though Zeke’s often trended towards ‘flamboyant’.

He called out to her, even as he walked back off the field. “Alright, Mòrag! He’s all yours!”

With that in mind, she had returned back to where she had left her weapons, picking them up and resuming her own stance. Even as she squared off with Rex yet again, she couldn’t help but remark that he seemed to look… different. More confident, perhaps? She couldn’t tell what, and she still tried to mull it over even as she stated she was ready. When Rex did the same, and Zeke raised an arm once more, she quickly cleared her own mind. _Focus on what’s ahead, not what’s already happened._

As the signal to start went out, and she charged forth, her opponent did something rather odd and simply… did not budge, or even attempt to move. He instead stared her down, his brow furrowing as she got closer and closer. _He’s expecting another jab._ Reacting to this, Mòrag instead skid to the side, swinging to take advantage of his blind spot... only to find her blade glancing off his, as he spun to dissipate the impact. He was attempting to roll with the punches, to minimize the weight of her own blows. _Clever, but that won’t be_ —

A sudden blow to the ribs knocked the air out of her and sent her recoiling backwards, forcing her to immediately refocus as she silently cursed her own foolishness. She _should_ have known better. Just mere moments ago, she had remarked on how he simply didn’t fight with any recognizable style. Something such as that wasn’t a weakness, it was a _strength_ — _this_ was what Zeke had meant. It wasn’t that he and Rex both favored the same weapons, it was that Rex’s own methodology was so incredibly out of the ordinary to the point of unpredictability.

He had begun to close in again, and she prepared for a quick parry and riposte. He was simply moving too quickly for him to reasonably dodge _or_ block her attack, and—

Rex tossed his own sword aside, giving her a grin as he slid beneath her outstretched arms. _That cheeky little…!_

She hadn’t even noticed the grapple line he had wrapped around her ankles either, and it wasn’t until she had been unceremoniously yanked off her feet did she even realize what _had_ happened. The next thing she knew, she was staring up at Rex as he held one of _her_ practice blades, no doubt having flown out of her grasp after she had been knocked down. Out of breath, yet grinning, he gave her a slight chuckle. “I think I figured it out, Mòrag.”

“...So it would seem, Rex. So it would seem.” Still somewhat surprised by the sudden reversal of fortunes, the Special Inquisitor couldn’t help but laugh a little as she acquainted herself with how blue the sky looked at times.

“Need a hand?”

A sigh and a brief nod from her, as she still tried to regain her composure. “That would be appreciated, yes.”

Despite the difference in size, Rex was surprisingly difficult to topple in that singular moment, helping her get back to her feet with relative ease. Even as she dusted herself off, he bounced the practice blade in his hand a bit. “So… how was that?”

“...you broke essentially every rule there is to break, in regards to proper fighting style. But, I may simply be the wrong teacher for you. Zeke appears to have helped you more than I did today.”

He shook his head somewhat. “I wouldn’t say that. I learned a lot from you too! Like watching my blind spots, and trying not to think too much during a fight. There’s probably plenty more I could still learn from the both of you.”

“That may be so.” Snatching the blade out of his palm, she gave it a quick whip through the air, grinning faintly. “...shall we, then?”

Knowing exactly what she was getting at, Rex had already walked back over to pick up his own practice weapon, tightening his grip on it as he stood opposite her. “Again?”

“Again.”


End file.
